Dr. Alfred Goettner

http://penhales.tumblr.com/post/176467895208/audio_player_iframe/penhales/tumblr_o19914REgZ1qci6qv?audio_file=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.tumblr.com%2Faudio_file%2Fpenhales%2F176467895208%2Ftumblr_o19914REgZ1qci6qv

I’ve tried to hide it so that no one knows

But I guess it shows

When you look into my eyes

What you did and where you’re coming from
I don’t care, as long as you love me, baby

thinkofaugust:

…why am I not the ingénue heroine in a Victorian novel?

Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.

Oscar Wilde, The Critic As Artist | Moon in the 11th House (via pegasus-astrology)

What did burning flowers smell like?
Something terrible, something holy?

Vandana Khanna, from Blue Madonna in “Train To Agra” (via adrasteiax)

Can you imagine what it means to a human heart to have no prayer to make?

Isak Dinesen, Babette’s Feast (via rivierie)

gnossienne:

_{Vangelis Kyris, “Vanity” from Sins (2005)}

lord-voldetit:

ᵘʰʰʰʰʰ ᵈᵒ ᵘ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒᶫᵈ ʰᵃᶰᵈˢ

Herbert: You keep making tea! Every surface is covered with mugs of tea and coffee. And you can’t even drink it! You can’t drink it, but you keep making it. Oh my god, it’s driving me insane!
Alfred: Oh. Well. I like my routine. It makes me feel normal.
Herbert: You’re a vampire!

grafenkind:

3andastra3:

rumpelstiltskinned:

#ProtectAlfred2k17 #tanzdervampire #tanzdervampiremusical #musicals #musicalfanart #sketch #doodle #instaart #traditionalart #artistsoninstagram

Unbearable cuteness

Aww, look at poor Alfred. He’s so adorable.

‘You never felt jealousy, did you, Miss Eyre? Of course not: I need not ask you; because you never felt love. You have both sentiments yet to experience; your soul sleeps; the shock is yet to be given which shall awaken it. You think all existence lapses in as quiet a flow as that in which your youth has hitherto slid away. Floating on with closed eyes and muffled ears, you neither see the rocks bristling not far off in the bed of the flood, nor hear the breakers boil at their base. But I tell you–and you may mark my words–you will come some day to a craggy pass of the channel, where the whole of life’s stream will be broken up into whirl and tumult, foam and noise: either you will be dashed to atoms on crag points, or lifted up and borne on by some master wave into a calmer current–as I am now.’

Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre (via janeeyrequotes)